


Lessons in Heat

by heartswells



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Burning, Dubious Consent, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Kink, S&M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 20:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13325856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartswells/pseuds/heartswells
Summary: "Keep your arm held still," Ian directed, letting go of Max and reaching for a lighter and metal strip. "And open your eyes.”





	Lessons in Heat

Max's breaths whooshed out in a nervous, uneven song as he nestled himself under Ian’s left arm. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, attempting to focus on only the comforting hum of Ian’s voice as he brushed one hand through Max’s lazy curls. With his free hand, Ian pinched Max's wrist and pulled his arm out, fully extending the tender flesh and exposing it to his mercy; with an adoring smirk, he traced the veins and mapped the skin for the most tender areas while cruelly dragging out Max's trepidation with malicious intent.

 

Ian remained tracing his fingers over Max's arm, absorbing the patterns of shivers and flinches that followed the slide of his fingers until he finally settled on twirling his fingers around the area just before the crook of Max's arm where he appeared to be particularly sensitive.

 

"Keep your arm held still," Ian directed, letting go of Max and reaching for a lighter and metal strip. "And open your eyes.”

 

Max whimpered in trepidation but opened his eyes when Ian’s fingers reached over and tipped up his chin; he stared for a minute, searching Max's eyes and ensuring his consent, before turning Max’s cheek so that he could see Ian's hands working.

 

The muscles in Ian's forearm flexed as he flicked his thumb and ignited the lighter. The flame burst into life and hungrily morphed around the edges of the metal, licking at the silver and staining it black with its kiss. Max felt his stomach churning and his heart skipping in sync with each flicker of its light. When Ian was finally satisfied, he placed the lighter to the side and grabbed Max's arm at the wrist in a tight, steady hold.

 

"Deep breath," Ian soothed before pushing the metal right into the delicate, tender skin below the bend of Max's arm. Max swore, his voice cracking with the intensity of the pain as he vehemently tried to jerk his arm away.

 

Ian kept a firm hold, refusing to allow Max’s arm to budge and forcing Max to ride out the pain. He pressed the metal deep into Max's skin and allowed the horrific shock to rack him. The feeling of the burn was like crying, it seared and grew in intensity before fading to something that felt itchy and sticky and disgusting and cold, leaving him drenched in pain, and the adrenaline was indescribable. It shook him, filled him with a rush like pure terror, made him feel like he sucked on lust itself.

 

Ian drank Max in, downed him like a shot and let him whip through his blood and intoxicate him. He watched Max's eyes widen; watched hot air whistle over his lips as he gasped and panted; watched his whole body recoil and tense in pain; watched his eyes become pink and swollen with tears; watched his cheeks become flushed and wet from crying; watched his chest heave as he choked and sobbed; watched his muscles flex in his arm as he tried to break out of his grip; and watched his body shake and contort and scream. Finally, he watched Max’s body untense and collapse against him.

 

"Good boy," he praised, kissing a tear off Max's cheek so tenderly that it was mocking and cruel. Max whimpered, burying his face in Ian's side and letting his tears soak into the cotton of Ian’s shirt. When the heaving of Max's chest began to slow, Ian smiled.

 

"Nah-uh-uh, we aren't done yet," he taunted, tugging on Max's fingers, asking him to extend his arm again and waiting for Max's permission.

 

Max slowly brought his arm back out, trembling violently, still consumed by the adrenaline-fueled buzz of such sudden, shocking, and intense pain. Ian cooed, running his hand through Max's hair again and kissing the top of his head before catching Max's arm in a brutal grip that harshly contradicted all of his tender actions.

 

"Why don't you hold it?" Ian inquired with a sickeningly sweet smile, placing the metal in Max's hand, and curling Max's fingers around it for him when Max's anxious eyes flew open and stared up at him in plea.

 

Ian didn’t flinch at the helplessness in Max's eyes as he flicked on the lighter and engulfed the end of the metal in its heat. Max's eyes squeezed shut again in anticipation, but Ian reached over and tapped his hand on Max's cheek, warning him to keep them open and look at him. The lighter clicked off and Ian tossed it to the side, taking the metal from Max's fingers and hovering it just next to the previous burn. The heat radiated onto Max's skin, and he stared into Ian's eyes desperately, anticipating the horrific pain.

 

"Please," he finally whimpered, desperate for it to just happen already.

 

"Such a good boy, asking so politely," Ian mocked as he slammed the metal down. His last words were covered by Max's scream as the pain overwhelmed him.

 

The burn surged through him so hotly and violently that the shock of it felt cold. It was momentarily blinding, and everything went black as he felt nothing but the singular searing pain of the heat increasing in intensity and fading into his body. He felt the top layers of his skin curdle as it became so damaged that the nerves were numbed, causing the pain to feel strangely and terribly deep as the damage seeped down deeper and deeper into the layers of flesh. It pulsed in him, a hot, inescapable torture screaming alongside his heartbeat.

 

He was gasping with the pain, choking on sobs that trembled out of his lungs while his vision wavered between darkness and light. He pushed his face into Ian's shoulder as if he wished to hide from the pain, and Ian cooed tender shushes to him in response, pressing his lips into the top of Max's head and soothing him.

 

"You've learned your lesson, I'm sure, Max?" Ian asked. Max nodded and sunk pliantly to the floor as Ian pushed him between his legs.

 

Max rested his head against Ian's knee, watching passively in his adrenaline-exhausted haze as Ian's fingers popped the button on his jeans. His eyes instinctively fluttered shut when he leaned in and burned with the tiredness of crying as he indulged in sharp, salty taste of Ian.

 

He didn't register that Ian was holding his arm again until Ian sank his thumb into one of the blistering burns.

 

The pain blinded him, and he gagged violently as he tried to scream. Ian held him still, his one hand pressing its fingers harshly into the raw, tender burns, and his other hand holding Max's head in place, gagging him on his cock.

 

"I just want to make sure you don't forget, Max," Ian chides, nails piercing Max's blisters with a sinister grin.

 


End file.
